

weddingWeddingwedding
A short drive from The Estate there is a town where we would sometimes buy meat. You can’t buy just any meat, because it hangs from a hook all day in the sun and the flies swarm around it and lay maggots in the pink flesh. We always buy fillet, from inside, where the meat is still good. But then again we are white, and we have the money for fillet. I hate shopping for meat, the smell is unbearable. This evening we have not driven out for meat. It is the evening, and a man my father knows has a son who is getting married. I have never seen a wedding before. When we arrive people are dancing, a


Ode to CarsOde to CarsOde to Cars
The tangy taste of mild metallic mutters Dirty warmth that splutters on my breath Burning in my lungs and filling gutters With a very modern kind of dandy death
A knowing smile of glinting metal stares Like smoking filter tips with ember glares Lights dip while choking in my chest I cough And wheezes wrestle with my sighing lips.
Yours is more metal type of throttle Without fingers and asthmatic tickle shuffles And yet in blissful winter weather you lose grip And flip your noose over another baby bottle


MatronMatronMatron
It’s morning and the boys are making ready, Their lipless linen folded back like yawning mouths. Warmth escapes, dissolving.
Amongst the spiral-dust they dress Still clinging to their dozy dreams.
I wait and register, attentive like a hen, My plastered broken knuckles sore. While I stand I hear a screaming.
Fuck you, a sound, the packing of bare flesh. I dash and smell the fug of bleach.
One boy defiant, bloody, stands A shattered glass lies broken on the ground. The girl is mine he spits.
The rest have to
x x
Yola-Bear
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